


Bread, Butter, and Blades

by auremin



Category: Room of Swords (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, au where theyre just normal young adults, even on beef roast, gyrus is done with everything, kodya likes to burn salt pass it on, sylvia just wants to eat, tori has a sword and isnt afraid to use it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:57:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auremin/pseuds/auremin
Summary: Gyrus wasn't sure where everything went wrong.Maybe it started when Sylvia had suggested that they eat out in celebration of her report card.Maybe it was when he didn't check his friends properly for the weapons they liked to carry around before they'd gone inside.Maybe it was when he let Kodya burn the salt packet?Whatever set off the disaster sequence wasn't important. Actually, it was the least of their concerns, because the trainwreck had now reached its peak -- and Gyrus knew the second Tori pulled out her longsword that they were never going to be allowed inside the restaurant again.





	Bread, Butter, and Blades

In hindsight, Gyrus should’ve known that everything would go horribly wrong.

 

But at the moment, it had seemed like a reasonable request: the five of them would have a night out to celebrate Sylvia’s all-time-high grades, and to forget that they had hours of homework waiting for them despite the fact that the second school term was only just beginning.

 

In the beginning, everything was going as smoothly as it could be with his friend group involved. They’d pooled their money and realized they had enough to eat at the new restaurant in town, reservations were made, and they’d all shown up on time. 

 

Out of habit, Gyrus had conducted a weapon check back at the dorms, because his more sporty friends had an unfortunate habit of carrying around swords “just in case”.

 

In the end, Kodya had mercifully been convinced to leave his archery equipment in his room, Tori wasn’t carrying around her longsword (at least, not at her hip), Sylvia was weapon-free and excitedly signing for them to get going, and Nephthys was… well, she’d never caused any mass panic, so Gyrus assumed that it was fine to not check her for deadly weapons. 

 

So there they were, a group of ragtag teenagers in the entrance of a generic-looking “monthly family splurge”-type restaurant, and Gyrus had a beanie on to cover his apparently 13+ parental guidance advised green hair, and it was going  _ fine. _

 

Five minutes later, they were in a booth and Sylvia was drooling over every item on the menu and Kodya was burning napkins over the small tealight. 

 

Fifteen minutes later, with the drinks on the table and no more napkins, Neph made the grave mistake of offering Kodya a salt packet to burn.

 

Twenty minutes later, the candle was out, and the smell of burning salt was entrenched in everyone’s nasal cavities.

 

Thirty minutes after, with only bread and small butter tubs to hold her over, Sylvia had nearly crushed a part of the table by holding the edges in anticipation of her meat stew (which, unfortunately, ended up only half in Slyvia’s stomach; the other half was currently dripping off the table into Kodya’s lap).

 

But all that was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary, nothing that couldn’t be dismissed as accidental, they wouldn’t be kicked out-- until Tori got her roast and lo and behold, maybe Gyrus  _ should’ve _ checked her bag because she pulled out her infamous longsword and the waiter dropped whoever’s order he was holding in favour of collapsing to the floor and screaming for help.

 

Tori looked the poor man in the eye, and glaring defiantly, she swung.

 

It hit the plate with a  _thunk_ , cleaving off a chunk of meat as well as most of the ceramic.

 

Everyone in the surrounding area watched in abstract horror as she popped the food into her mouth, chewed for what seemed like forever, and then:

 

“It’s overcooked.”

 

And the spell that had forced everyone to keep watching the catastrophe broke, and the screaming began in tandem.

 

“ _ Oh my gOD TORI WHAT ARE YOU DOING -- WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” _

(Really, Gyrus could’ve been singing soprano by how high his voice got by the end of his fit.)

 

Sylvia rapidly began shoving breadsticks into her plastic bag, looking around furtively and only speeding up when she saw what appeared to be the manager striding towards them.

 

Somewhere under the table, Nephthys was trying to stop Kodya from crawling under the seats to get away from the disaster.

* * *

 

In the end, they are banned from visiting the restaurant again, and they are forced to pay for the desserts of every diner who had to watch the trainwreck happening before their eyes. 

 

Standing outside with a handful of garlic bread she’d snatched from Gyrus’ plate before they’d been thrown out, Sylvia frowned at Tori and threw a soggy piece of baguette at the redhead.

 

_ ‘I was eating, bitch,’ _ she signed, in exaggerated anger. 

 

“I was too,” Tori shrugged, “the medieval way.”

 

At that, the remaining three people (who had been counting their expenses and were on the verge of tears -- sixteen tiramisus was fucking  _ expensive -- _ ) whipped around and stared at her incredulously.

 

“Tori,” Gyrus started.

 

“Astrobutt,” Tori deadpanned.

 

“ _ Tori.  _ It is 2019.”

 

“Astrobutt. I am aware.”

  
“ _ Tori, for fuck’s sake, we were eating at a family restaurant, not Medieval Times!” _


End file.
